Babrius (4)

Here are some more fables by Babrius, translated into English verse by James Davies: The Fables of Babrius, and you can click here for all the Babrius fables at this blog. I've also linked to the Greek text below.

The Man, the Horse, the Ox, and the Dog

A horse, an ox, a dog, distrest by cold,

To seek the warmth of a man's house made bold.

He let them enter by his open'd door,

And was not slack to give them of his store,

Warming his guests withal beside his hearth;

The horse found corn, of vetch the ox no dearth,

While the dog shared the table of his host.

Then fain would they requite their supper's cost,

And so its life's chief habit each bestows.

The horse gave first; hence each among us glows

With leaping spirit in our early prime.

The ox came next; therefore, at mid-life's time,

Man toils, and dearly loves to hoard and save.

The dog, 'tis said, life's latest features gave,

Whence, Branchus, each, as age steals o'er him, grows

Peevish apace, caressing only those

To whom he looks for food. A stranger's face

Provokes his bark, and never wins his grace.

The Camel

A drinking master would his camel bring

To dance to flutes, and brazen cymbal's ring.

"Would that I could on a plain road advance,

Causing no laughter," said she, "much less dance."

The Dog and the Hare

Chasing a mountain hare, a certain hound

Would one while bite her, if a chance he found,

And one while turn and lick her as a friend;

Said puss at last, "Let double-dealing end.

Be a true brute. If friend, why do you bite?

But if a foe, why fawn, nor be downright?"

Of an uncertain class of minds are those,

Whom, if to trust or distrust, no one knows.

illustration by Rackham

The Unskilful Physician

There lived a quack, and all but he could tell

A sick man not to fear; he'd soon be well:

"Diseases run their time, but then are over,"

The doctor came and said; "You won't recover!

Make all your preparations. You must die!

I scorn to cheat: I'm not the man to lie.

To morrow at the most you'll scarce get o'er!"

He said, nor visited his patient more.

But, lo! the man from his disorder rose,

Pallid, and somewhat shaky on his toes.

Taking his walk, the doctor met him so;

"Good morrow! How goes on the world below?"

"Oh! Deadly lively! Lethe's draught is flat!

But if you'd know what hell's high powers were at,

Doctors just now incurr'd their fiercest threats,

Because each sick man well so quickly gets.

They were proscribing all. Among the first

They talk'd of posting you. But forth I burst,

A little timid from the shadowy crowd,

And suppliant before their sceptres bow'd;

And sware to them the truth I could not hide:

You were no doctor, but had been belied."

The Dogs and the Wolves

A feud between the dogs and wolves arose,

And of their host the dogs as leader chose

One from Achaia, who, like general sage,

Kept holding back. His troops began to rage

At his preferring ambush to fair fight.

"Why I delay," he answered, "hear aright,

And why I'm careful. Prudence can't be wrong.

Our foes I see are one united throng,

But some of us have from Molossia come,

Others from Crete, from Acarnania some,

Some are Dolopian, others Cyprus boast,

Or Thrace their home: in short, a various host.

We differ, unlike these, in colour too,

Being, some black, and some of ashen hue,

While some are bright and mottled in the chest,

Others are white. Discordant bands at best

How can I marshal, with an eye to war,

'Gainst troops that all alike in all things are?"

For aught more good than harmony to seek

Is vain. Disunion slavish is, and weak.